


Wally West Will Have His Revenge On Happy Harbor

by CherryGirlRiot



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, It's a pretty bad time for everyone all things considered, Lazarus Pit Madness, M/M, Multi, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Roy Dick and Conner are all one-sided interested in Wally, Screwing with the Timeline, There's some shifting points of view separated by chapters so its not utterly confusing haha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29499120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryGirlRiot/pseuds/CherryGirlRiot
Summary: For years after Wally dies, they find his body in a snowy bank of the North Pole. Some are more hesitant than others to let go, willing to do anything to have him back. Other think that they shouldn't mess with the dead, shouldn't risk losing parts of him to the water. When he wakes up, everything's changed. There's only one person in who completely understands what he's going through, who doesn't want to help him just for their own selfish reasons. Who understands his anger towards her, towards them, and wants to help.Maybe it's just the water talking, but Wally kind of likes the idea of coming back as fire, leaving a blanket of ash in his wake.
Relationships: Artemis Crock/Wally West, Jason Todd/Wally West
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	1. Lucid Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> The second part of my weird Wally West obsession. Please be mindful that this isn't a happy story and that it has a mature rating for a reason.

Wally had died four years ago. Four long, agonizing years. Dick had thrown himself into his work. It was the only way he knew to cope with the pain; to ignore it, bury it underneath things more pressing. He’d think about Wally at night, see him behind his eyelids when he tried to sleep, dream about him. His crooked smile, his coffee addiction, the golden braces that he’d worn for the first three years they’d known each other. Sleeping pills and alcohol took care of that, made it easier to forget his laugh and the way his eyes glossed over, half-lidded when he was tired.

Despite all that, despite all his efforts to forget about his best friend, to move on, he was stuck. When he was on patrol, he’d see a flash of _something._ A bit of red, a glint of yellow, and he’d swear it was Wally. Believe it with such conviction that he wouldn’t be able to calm himself down. The pounding of his heart, the shaking in his hands, a panic attack brought on by misplaced guilt and grief, that he’d spend the rest of the night fighting through.

He knew Wally was dead. Everyone did. They didn’t talk about it, but it was written on everyone’s faces when they worked together, when they saw Bart zipping around in the costume that was once Wally’s. But Dick just didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to believe that Wally had died so young, that they had such little time together. If he’d have known back then, he’d have made the most of it, savored every second.

He’d have let the world burn, let Lex Luthor and his team of depraved scumbags get what they wanted.

But he would never tell another living soul that. No, that went against Dick’s meticulously constructed image of the perfect son, the perfect hero, the perfect mentor. Not a selfish disaster who’d much rather let thousands die than spend another thanksgiving without Wally showing up at his apartment and forcing leftovers on him.

Dick found him. In the snow.

It was an exploratory mission to find out what Icicle Sr. was up to. He’d taken all his money, all his goons and left the country, setting up base near the North Pole. The team had flown out; the original group, not the teenagers. Kaldur had moved on, taken over Aquaman’s mantle the moment his mentor retired to raise his child. But he’d agreed to go. “For old time’s sake.” He’d said. But Dick had a feeling it was because they were going to the same place that they’d lost Wally, and Kaldur too wanted to pretend like they’d show up and find Wally same as he always was.

They’d hit the snow and it had been cold. Absolutely freezing. Held memories, memories of Wally swatting Dick’s ass and laughing and saying that Dick needed to get a girl so that they could actually hang out instead of just meeting up for work. He hadn’t wanted to be there. Dick knew that. Knew that Wally hadn’t wanted to go at all, didn’t want Artemis to go undercover. And Dick had pushed it. Pushed her, pushed him, and see how that turned out?

So Dick wanted to go home, wanted to leave as soon as possible. He rushed through the mission, deducing that Icicle Sr. wasn’t doing anything yet, so they didn’t need to worry. Then he ran back to the ship before anyone else could stop him. But if he hadn’t done that, if he hadn’t have been an ass, then he’d never have seen him. He’d have been completely swallowed by the snow, hidden until the North Pole’s version of summer swept the lighter chunks away. But Dick wouldn’t have been there then, would never have known. He saw Wally’s bright red hair, the navy blue bomber jacket he’d been wearing before he’d jumped into his costume.

Dick dropped to the ground, a shaky hand reaching up to his comm, “I need a hand.” He said, gloved hands moving quick to try to uncover him.

The comm crackled to life, audio quality lacking on account of the abysmal weather. “Thought you were going back to the ship?” Roy teased, oblivious to the seriousness of Dick’s tone.

“I was. Got sidetracked.” He replied, brushing the snow off Wally’s blue, frozen face. He searched for a pulse and couldn’t find one, “I need help.”

“Things are secure here. Valor can give you a hand.” Kaldur said. His voice was soft and soothing in Dick’s ear.

“I can?” Conner asked, audibly disinterested.

“Or you could help Miss Martian secure the back quadrant.”

“I’m coming.” Conner said quickly, there was nothing that motivated him more than the threat of having to be alone with M’gann. “Where are you Nightwing?”

“You’ll see me. Just walk back towards the ship.” Dick said.

He tried to lift Wally but found himself unable. He wasn’t a weak guy by any means, and Wally had never been particularly heavy, but the added weight of the frozen blood was making it more difficult. He didn’t want to risk breaking him, so he just pulled him free from the frosted snowbank and took stock of the situation. His hair was longer, strands falling over Wally’s face, a red, curly beard had grown on his face. Dick had always assumed he couldn’t grow one; apparently he was wrong.

Then he noticed that Wally’s leg had been cut off, above the knee. It looked to be more precise than an animal, but messy and hadn’t been taken care of, which meant that wherever he’d been, it hadn’t been with a doctor.

“ _Shit_.” Dick breathed. Last time he checked, speedsters needed both legs to run. Wally had done track as a kid, and ballet, and he’d liked both, taught the latter, he was going to freak out when he woke up and realized.

“Nightwing, are you under fire?” Artemis asked. Her voice was like a knife, a reminder that there was someone else who cared about Wally, arguably more than he did.

He didn’t answer. He just tried to warm Wally up, as he heard footsteps. The loud crunch underneath combat boots told him that it was Conner, not one of Icicle Sr.’s mooks coming to put a bullet between his shoulders. He stopped abruptly, kicking snow up and splattering Dick’s already freezing back with icy chunks. Dick turned back, met Conner’s gaze. Neither of them said a word.

“Valor, Nightwing, call in.” Kaldur ordered.

Conner’s hand rose slowly, ungloved fingertips brushing against his ear piece, “It’s him.” His voice was distant, eyes wide, shoulder’s shaking, “It’s Wally.”


	2. For What It's Worth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M'gann and Artemis might be onto something here.

Wally was dead.

They knew that even before Conner had dragged his frozen body onto the ship. They peeled the clothing from his body to inspect his injuries and found that he was covered in scratches, in bite marks, a huge scar across his stomach like he’d been attacked by an animal. But it was too big, too deep, to be an animal that Dick recognized.

When she saw him, Artemis had cried. “Just leave him, goddamnit.” She said, her face buried in her hands to hide her tear stained face from the world. Weakness of any kind was unacceptable to her. Probably had been to her parents, as well.

Dick was just staring at him. The tears meant nothing to him, the begging, the pleading. A few minutes before, Roy had given them an option. He’d said that Talia al Ghul owed him a favor, and they could go there and she’d let them use the Lazarus Pit. Dick had met Talia and he was pretty sure she didn’t give out favors unless one had been done for him, but whatever fucked up thing Roy had done for her, he didn’t care.

He just wanted Wally back.

He had hoped that the feeling would be mutual. He’d _assumed_ it. Wally was just as important to him as everyone else. Losing Wally had ripped the team apart, devastated all of them. And yet there they were, umming and awing over if it was moral, if it was right.

 _It was Wally_.

“Don’t you want him back?” Dick asked. His fingers were steepled, made him feel a bit too much like Bruce.

“Of course I do!” Artemis said, jumping to her feet. She stormed over to him, unaffected by the way the ship rocked and swayed. When she saw Wally, she looked away, looked at the floor, “It’s not a good idea, Dick. The Lazarus Pit is arguably the _worst idea._ It’s not safe, and not up to us to play god.”

Dick stared down at Wally’s frostbitten fingers. He didn’t know if the body could experience frostbite after death, but hoped it did. Hoped that Wally had died peacefully, that the leg injury hadn’t hurt, that he hadn’t frozen to death in the snow, terrified and alone. That he hadn’t waited for them to come and save him, like Jason had.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea either.” M’gann chimed in. She was focused on the sky, but she occasionally glanced back towards them, eyes filled with tears and face creased with worry. “We don’t know what happened to him, and the Pit poses risks, right? He can’t consent to that.”

Conner snorted. He was leant against the wall, his arms crossed as tight as he could get them, his eyes fixed to the floor. “Didn’t realize consent mattered to you.”

“That’s not what I mean, Conner.” Her head spun around to face him, eyes narrowing, “Dick asked what we thought and I’m saying what I think. My decisions have nothing to do with you. You made that very clear.”

Dick had expected Conner to agree with her sentiment, agree to not risk someone for their own personal gain. But he didn’t. He rolled his eyes and strode over to the other end of the ship, resting his hands on the metal table that Wally rested on. He leant forwards, expression softening, lips pursing. He had a look on his face, one of longing and Dick though that was odd because Conner and Wally had never been friends. They didn’t talk, never hung out outside of work. Dick was pretty sure that Wally was scared of the big oaf; he had been when they were kids.

“It’s a gamble.” Conner spoke slowly, his hair hanging over his face as he bent, covering his eyes, “But Wally would take the risk right? He always took the risk. God awful card player, but he’d go all in on a one in a million chance without hesitation.” He snorted, “Bought enough lotto tickets, right?”

“Don’t compare lottery tickets to _this_.” Artemis snapped, pacing around nervously, ponytail bouncing against her back.

He rolled his eyes again.

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.” Roy said, tying his damp hair up, “The decision isn’t necessarily ours to make, but none of us are going to call Barry or Iris or the League. We’re gonna decide right now, ‘cause that’s what we do. No matter what, I want him back.”

The intellectual side to his argument was enough to sway Kaldur who, in the next few hours, would be back in Atlantis. One would say that he probably shouldn’t have voiced his opinion, considering he wouldn’t be dealing with the consequences, but he agreed with Dick, so Dick didn’t point it out. “I’m not going to stop you.” He said. “But you three will have to take care of it, if it goes wrong.”

“He’s not a fucking dog.” Artemis argued, “It’s _Wally’s life_. He has to deal with the consequences of those chucklefucks’ decision. Last time I checked, he enjoyed not being batshit.”

“He was absolutely out of his gourd, don’t give me that shit.” Roy argued.

“There was _nothing wrong with him_. You throw him in that bath and there will be.” She hissed, angry tears running down her cheeks.

Dick clenched his jaw. When Wally had gone missing, she’d moved out of their apartment the day after. She’d dropped all the college courses they’d taken together, got rid of all of his things the day after the funeral. She’d started dating some guy a few months later, acted like Wally had never existed in the first place. Sure, maybe Dick’s hyper focus on work and his habit of looking at old photographs over a bottle of wine wasn’t healthy. But at least he hadn’t completely forgotten about Wally. At least he thought about him every day.

_What about her?_

“You’re not the only person who lost him, Artemis.” Dick narrowed his eyes at her, finally wrenching his eyes away from Wally’s body. “Instead of throwing all his shit away and acting like he never existed, some of us have actually been hoping he’d come back. And here he is. So I’m gonna do something about it. You’re his girlfriend, who fucking cares? I’ve known him longer than you.”

“ _Dick._ ” Kaldur chastised.

“He’s right.” Conner weighed in.

“You’re _terrible._ ” M’gann told him.

He scoffed, “Makes two of us.”

“ _Shut up!_ ” Roy barked, with enough authority in his voice to silence the entire ship. Maybe he’d gained that power through fatherhood, or maybe he just spent enough time with Batman and Green Arrow, “I’m calling Talia, and we’re doing it okay? Suck it up and tough it out.”

“You don’t have the authority to make that decision.” Artemis argued.

“I do, sweetheart.” He said, spinning around in his seat in circles, entering a number into his phone, “I’m his medical proxy.”

“ _Since when?_ ”

“Since he thought he had cancer and didn’t want to freak you out?”

“You never told me that.”

“You never want to talk about him.” Whoever he was calling answered and he replied to them in Arabic, rolling forwards off the chair and doing a one handed handstand.

Dick had always thought Roy was weird. He did weird things, said weird things, he was a moody sonova bitch, too. Since his daughter had been born, his moods were more on the positive end of the spectrum which meant he did things like _that_. Standing on one hand, chatting to someone on the phone in a language Dick didn’t understand with a live crossbow strapped to his back that could quite easily shoot him in the ass if he moved wrong.

“Badass!” Roy grinned, ending the call and giving the group a thumbs up, “How long do you think it takes to defrost a body? Is it like a turkey?”

Conner shrugged, “I imagine?”

“I have a pretty big oven back at my place.” Dick suggested. It was absolutely, undeniably fucked up, but it got a laugh out of Roy.

Not that Roy was hard to get a laugh out of.

“Could you at least try to be respectful?” Kaldur asked, voice dripping with its signature disappointment.

“You gotta admit, Kal, it’s kind of ridiculous.” Conner said, “Finding Wally in the snow four years after he disappeared, looking just as he did before, and we’re going to throw him into a steamy pit of life giving Fabuloso which _may_ also make him crazy.”

Kaldur snorted, “I suppose. But two of you are clones and I’m a giant humanoid fish, so in the grand scheme of things, I’d call it a normal Thursday.” Artemis shot him a glare and he quieted down, rubbing his palms together anxiously. He would probably give himself fifteen lashes later for engaging in comedic discussion with a colleague.

“It’s not that big of a deal.” Dick said, believing every word of it.

He’d seen the Lazarus Pit bring someone back with his own eyes. And Jason was fine, good. As good as he was going to get considering everything we went through. He’d always been a troubled teen, always been angry, always leant towards the violent ways of dealing with criminals. He was angrier for a time when he came back, wanted revenge on the people who hurt him, but it had subsided with time and he was Jason again.

Wally had always been a good person. Would always give his life for someone else, _had_ given his life. He’d be fine. Dick was sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Swiggity Swooty Chapter two! I'm so, so, so excited to keep working on this. It definitely gets delicious. Thank you all for the kudos and the bookmarks ! See you in the next update!


	3. Toxicity

M’gann, unsurprisingly, didn’t drop them off on Infinity Island. She dumped them back at the cave and left, leaving Conner to play interference with a bunch of kids to prevent them from finding out what Roy had wrapped up in a tarp and thrown over his shoulder like a bag of spuds. Dick had eventually promised them all pizza and ice cream and Bart was so excited at the prospect that no one else had the heart to tell him that it definitely wasn’t worth it.

Roy and Conner went back to Roy’s place to work on a mechanical replacement for Wally’s missing leg and Dick was put in charge of locating a ride. Fortunately for him, Batman was off world and Dick had a day off from the station, which gave him ample time to steal the Batship. All it cost him was a bag of milky ways and forty bucks so that Babs and Tim could get takeout. Easy to please.

He flew out to Coast City, found Roy his garage. Since the discovery of his less than natural origins and the emotional tornado that was Cheshire, Roy had moved out of his scuzzy Star City apartment and had bought a hilariously suburban house in an equally mundane neighborhood. Dick was pretty sure that all his neighbors hated him for dropping the property values, but Roy hadn’t seemed to have noticed the dirty looks and frosty conversations.

Maybe he just didn’t care.

His garage, which had been repurposed into a workshop, was covered with bits of metal and electrical equipment. Every available surface covered in schematics, prototypes and research notes. In the back corner of the room, there was a brand new chest freezer; Conner was sat on top of it, scrolling through something on a tablet. Dick assumed Wally was in the freezer, and had a feeling that if he was alive, he wouldn’t take too kindly to Conner using his temporary accommodations as a chair.

Roy wiped the oil off his hands with a stained rag. He had the making of a pretty decent silver and red foot before him, that he was scrutinizing whilst rocking Lian’s stroller with his foot.

“All set?” Dick asked.

The two looked up at him. Dick suddenly became aware of the fact that he was horribly overdressed. His original thought pattern had been to look good for Wally - not in a romantic way, but a ‘not look like a depressed piece of shit way’ - which had lead to Dick tearing apart his place, trying on everything he owned. He had eventually, if for no other reason that he was already forty-five minutes late, settled on a pair of deep burgundy slacks and a grey and white linen button up. And a set of gucci loafers.

This had lead to a hilarious scenario wherein Dick looked like a rich tycoon and his friends, his blue-collar employees.

Roy had his hair up in a bun, in a white tank top covered in oil and baby spit up, a pair of old jeans and white sneakers that leaned more towards yellow. Conner was in a dark grey shirt that couldn’t possibly have been his; in all the years Dick knew him, he’d never strayed from a black t-shirt, and especially nothing with a v-neck. It was probably Roy’s. The rest of his clothes were the same as what he’d been wearing for the past 10 years, carpenter jeans, motorcycle boots, and his brown leather jacket discarded on the floor by the freezer.

“Not really. Technical difficulties. Take the baby.” Roy thrust Lian at him, the remaining oil on his hands staining her white onesie.

“Uh, sure.” Dick took her, but didn’t really want to. She didn’t like him, and he hated children. The moment she was in his arms, she started sobbing, her limbs shaking and thumping against his body.

Roy laughed, “Her favorite person.”

“Can you just take her back?”

“No can do.”

“Why not?”

Dick watched Roy stick his hand into the top of the robotic foot, and immediately get electrocuted. The appendage flexed it’s toes it a pretty realistic way, and Conner jumped down off the freezer to steady him. Dick figured it was probably intentional considering how neither of them looked surprised. Lian turned her head, mesmerized by the sparkles jumping from the loose wires at the top of the foot. She babbled something incomprehensible.

“It works.” Roy said, sagging into Conner’s arms. He was sweating hard, the collar of his shirt completely soaked with perspiration. Dick wondered why Conner couldn’t have tested it, considering he was Superman’s clone.

“Works great.” Conner remarked. “We can connect the rest of it at the Cave.”

“The cave?” Dick asked. Without the sparks, Lian was back to screaming. “Sure that’s a good idea?”

Roy shrugged, “We need the Med Bay.”

“You ask Kaldur?”

Conner nodded, releasing Roy and tossing him a clean shirt. “He said it was fine. As long as we don’t ‘traumatize the kids’ but I told him Roy was gonna do that with or without a one legged ginger popsicle.” He cracked open the freezer and pulled Wally’s frozen corpse out of it, “Think Wally would mind if we dumped him in the truck bed?”

“I think the cops probably would.” Dick commented, giving Lian back to Roy.

“You _are_ the cops.” Roy pointed out, “You guys can go ahead, anyway. I gotta give Li to the sitter and get everything else sorted.”

“Grab the door, Greyson.” Conner ordered.

Dick nodded. He grabbed Roy’s keys, which were hanging from a hook near the door to the garage. He opened the back door for Conner, took out the babyseat, then got behind the wheel. It was big, bigger than what Dick was used to driving. He glanced at Conner hopelessly.

“Scoot over. I can drive.” Conner said, a soft smile on his face.

“My hero.”

Dick stumbled out of the truck and got into the other side. Conner jumped in with ease, threw the truck into reverse and backed out onto the street. The jet was parked on an empty stretch of land fifteen minutes away; Dick got the luxury of babysitting Wally’s slowly defrosting corpse whilst Conner went back to Roy’s.

As Wally warmed up, his skin regained some of it’s natural pinky color. His freckles returned to warm brown. Dick was grateful for that. Something about seeing Wally all cold and blue creeped him out, now he looked like he could open his eyes at any moment. The beard, which Dick had only briefly regarded before, was now capturing his attention. He didn’t like it. Yet he felt inclined to touch it. He leant forwards, stroking Wally’s cheek. He frowned. That was creepy. _He_ was creepy.

To distract himself from how disgusting he felt, he helped himself to the BatJet’s BatMinibar and made a rum and coke. 

He stared at Wally silently until he heard the door of the jet crack open.

“Hope you can fly drunk.” Roy joked. He’d changed. Found himself a clean yellow hoodie and a pair of tight black pants that reminded Dick of the old Roy, the one who ran around in a yellow vinyl hat and sulked at the drop of one.

Conner hadn’t changed. In both respects.

“I’m sober enough.” Dick assured. “Have you seen this ungodly thing?” He gestured to the beard.

“I kinda like it.” Conner said. He touched Wally’s gace with his stained fingers, apparently not uncomfortable with the notion of groping a corpse. “Makes him look less like a baby.”

Roy snorted, “Yet when I grow one, people think I’m depressed and hold interventions.”

“You _were_ depressed.” Dick argued.

“Go fly the ship, smart ass.”

* * *

They arrived at Infinity Island by nightfall, landing in a clearing between trees. Conner dutifully hoofed Wally the rest of the way to the palace, holding him under his arm like a cardboard cut out. Roy lead them through the path of trees and brush that eventually lead them to the palace, where Talia was waiting. Roy all but skipped up the stairs and planted a kiss on her ruby red lips.

“Thank you.” He said.

“Don’t thank me.” She said, “Thank the Pit.”

“Talia, I’m not thanking an inanimate object.”

She rolled her eyes. “Hurry up. My father doesn’t know you’re here.”

“Just the way I like it.” Roy said, winking. Then motioned behind him, “Dick Greyson, Conner Kent.”

She nodded, “I’ve met Mr. Greyson before.”

They had met. Once. Dinner in Paris with Bruce. Awkward and uncomfortable and Dick vaguely remembered getting wasted in his hotel room afterwards and having sex with a waitress from the hotel bar. He remembered getting gonorrhea too.

The fact that Talia had sex with both Bruce and Roy made Dick want to turn himself inside out and fall into a pit of pythons, but he tried to be amicable for Wally’s sake.

“Hello again.” He said, equally as awkward as he had been that night.

“Hello.” She smiled coyly, then glanced towards Conner, “Do you normally carry your friends like a piece of luggage?”

Conner gave her a confused look in response.

“Mr. West.” She said, gesturing with her hand.

Conner looked down at him. “He’s dead. I don’t think he’ll mind.”

“Fair enough.”

She lead them through the halls of the palace. The staff didn’t look at them, just went about their tasks as if no one was there, speaking in hushed tones. Talia’sheels echoed against the polished marble floors, every move purposeful and elegant. The palace was a maze, much like Wayne Manor, but she lead them to the basement in no time at all, tugging open the door and shutting it behind them, not bothering to follow. She was keeping guard, Dick assumed. Or maybe she went back to her room. Dick didn’t care.

“How do you know her?” Conner asked, unceremoniously chucking Wally into the water as if he was a Kid Flash pool noodle.

The room was dark, lit only by candles and the green glow of the water. The place was built like a more ornate public pool, and the thought of this supposed ‘holy water’ looking almost identical to the one at Gotham Academy made Dick laugh.

“I was trying to take care of a child sex rink in Russia, nearly got my hands chopped off, Talia happened to be in the same place for the different reason.” Roy said, lighting a cigarette and watching the colors shift in the water, “Two months later, I saved her from a rotten op in Saigon, then again in Istanbul, but the latter was her fault for being such a pain in the ass.” He chuckled, “Rich kids.”

Last time Dick checked, Roy had a 2 million dollar trust fund waiting for the day he finally stopped pissing off Oliver Queen, but there wasn’t much point in arguing. Opposed to Dick, Roy had intentionally avoided any of the niceties that came with a rich adopted dadyand had instead spent his free time working odd jobs and paying his own way. The only reason he stayed in Oliver’s penthouse for as long as he did was because Hal and Dinah had been so adamant about him attempting to be normal. At least, that’s what Hal had told Dick, over a pint of beer in a weird intergalactic bar where Dick had his first sexual experience with a Kalanorian and had nearly been snapped in half.

But that was off topic.

There was movement in the water below, shaking and thrashing, and Dick tried to remember if Wally could swim. He could, couldn’t he? Most people could. But he was moving so erratically; maybe he _was_ drowning. Just as Dick was about to strip off his shirt and jump in, Wally rose to the surface, wide eyed and breathing heavy. He met Dick’s gaze, at least, that’s what Dick had wanted to believe. He wanted to believe that out of the three of them, it was Dick who Wally was most excited to see. Or the only one he remembered, depending on Wally’s mental state. He had been dead for four years after all.

Wally coughed up water, lifting up a shaky hand to wipe the wet hair out of his eyes. He seemed... normal, enough?

Maybe Dick was just overly optimistic.

But not as much as Roy, who jumped into the water with reckless abandon and clasped Wally’s shoulders, “Welcome back to the land of the living, Walls.”

Wally looked at him with mild disinterest, which was quickly replaced with his usual, cheerful expression. “Hey.” He said, voice hoarse, eyes flickering around the room, “Where am I?”

“Where _were_ you?” Conner asked, not going anywhere near the water until Roy had brought Wally close enough that he could just lean forwards and pull him out, and onto the tile floor.

“Speed Force.” Wally said, then his attention was drawn to the missing limb and his expression turned neutral, “What a bummer.” He said, as if he’d just dropped an ice cream cone.

Dick found his lack of surprise jarring, but swallowed it down. He was just happy to have Wally back.

“Conner and I made you a new one.” Roy said, grabbing Conner’s bicep and squeezing it, “We’re _making_ one, actually. It’s not done yet. But you should be up and zipping around in no time.”

Wally didn’t answer.

Dick licked his bottom lip nervously. There was a little bit of water on his mouth from when Conner had hurled Wally in. It tasted bitter, like burnt coffee, and Dick wrinkled his nose. “How are you feeling?” He asked, then added, “We have towels on the jet. I should have brought one in for you.... You’renot cold, right?”

“I’m fine.” Wally said, almost defensively, drawing his remaining leg into himself and gnawing on his bottom lip. He most definitely wasn’t fine, not that he’d ever admitted when he was struggling. A silent sufferer. He’d always been that way. But he was quiet, too quiet. Wally was never that quiet, even talked in his sleep.

“I like the beard.” Conner said, suddenly. He sat down beside Wally, an inch away from him. Enough to not make him feel trapped.

“I wasn’t able to figure out the razor situation in the great unknown.” Wally replied, dryly.

“I’m not being a dick.” Conner said, “I really do like it.”

Wally smiled.

Dick felt strangely jealous that Wally’s first smile was directed at Conner. But Conner had that power on everyone; he was nice and genuine and a little dopey and people (usually chicks) ate it up.

“Where’s Artemis?” Wally asked.

The question made Dick’s heart shatter. He knew Wally. Knew he was going to be devastated when he realized that Artemis wasn’t there, and didn’t want them to do this. He’d dated Artemis since he was sixteen, he’d never had his heart broken before.

“She’s not here. Thought the whole thing was fucked up.” Roy Harper, always the blunt fuck who ripped off the bandaid, “Sorry.”

Wally looked dejected. He stared into one of the candles, the flame reflecting in his green eyes. Conner put his arm around his shoulder and Wally didn’t move, didn’t respond.

“I’m sure she’ll be at the Cave.” Dick said, crouching down, “You know what she’s like. Stubborn.”

“Corpses creep her out.” Wally said, “Kinda funny considering her bodycount.”

He laughed and the sound of it almost brought Dick to tears. He’d kept a handful of voicemails from Wally, listened to them whenever he really missed him. But it didn’t compare to the real thing. Not even remotely.

“Lets get you dry, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't wait until Dick realizes that Talia bonked Jason too.
> 
> Thank you guys for reading!! As is my usual standard, there's gonna be a little bit of build up before anything actually happens, so I appreciate everyone coming back before the juicy parts happen!
> 
> See you in the next update!


	4. Zombie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so absolutely terrible! I've been working on this non-stop but somehow I convinced myself I'd updated it on March 5th instead of /February 25th/ and it's been like two weeks, so please forgive me with an extra long chapter this time!

Dick should have realized something was wrong when Wally snuck up on him and pinned him to the ground. He was so blinded by the pure excitement of having Wally back that he hadn’t thought anything of it.

Before they dragged him to the cave, they’d taken Wally back to Conner’s. Dick had decided it’d be best to give him time to get his bearings before subjecting him to a bunch of excited kids who had been staring at his statue for the past four years. That and, they hadn’t mentioned the fact that Wally’s mantle had been given to Bart and Dick really didn’t know how Wally was going to take it.

If it was anything like how he felt when Bruce gave away a title that wasn’t his, then Dick imagined it’d be an absolute shitshow. Wally wasn’t one to hide his emotions.

Wally had gone to take a shower. Dick had offered to help, considering the fact that Wally was down a limb, but Wally was adamant he was fine, that he didn’t need help. It didn’t stop Dick from lingering around outside the door until he heard the water turn on. He was going to stay longer but Roy laughed at him, told him he was being too controlling.

“I’m just worried.” Dick had argued.

“He’s almost thirty, Dick. He knows how to shower.” Roy had said. Then he clicked his tongue, “Guess he’s still twenty-two, right? Shit.” And he walked away, pondering that. He’d become more like Oliver in recent years than he’d realized; if he had one of those stupid victorian beards, he’d probably be stroking it in thought.

He did have a point, though. As much as Dick hated to admit it, if Wally had actually needed help, he’d have asked for it. And he’d managed to get into the shower.

So Dick went downstairs. Conner’s house was a multi-family property that had been converted. The first floor was a mechanic’s garage, the second was Conner’s two bedroom home. He’d bought it the last and final time he and M’gann had broken up, and Conner had moved out of her place. Dick fancied himself a bit of an interior decorator and Conner was the kind of guy who’d be cool with just a couch and a tv, so Dick had designed both floors. His magnum opus being the sunny yellow walls, like a delicately poached egg yolk, that resided in the living room. The room had great light, and the yellow only highlighted it. The rest of the furniture complimented it, a nice Moroccan color palette that made Dick think of a mission to Casablanca with the team. Granted, the trip ended up with M’gann stupidly mentioning that Wally would just have ‘loved taking photos of coast’ and the team spending the rest of the night in a state of depression that only broke when they got absolutely hammered at the hotel bar, but it was still a good memory.

Dick had put on a pot of coffee, and was reading the newspaper when Wally had snuck up behind him. He’d been on crutches, but he was so used to breaking bones that he was good on them. Slipped behind Dick without him noticing and pulled him into a crucifix. The last time anyone (Slade Wilson) had grappled Dick like that, he’d ended up with a broken collar bone and a bruise ego.

“Woah!” Dick sputtered, on high alert. His mind raced with ways out of the grab, but he didn’t get the chance to do anything before he was released. He rolled over, taking a moment to catch his breath. He heard Wally’s laughter and snapped his head towards him, “What the fuck?”

“Thought you had finely honed senses?” Wally grinned, sliding back to use the coffee table as leverage to get up.

Dick’s senses were going haywire. There was something in the back of his head telling him he was still in trouble, but he decided to push it down. He’d spent too much time on patrol recently, both as a hero and an officer; it was just residual nerves.

“Where’d you learn that?” Dick asked, incredulously.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Wally offered. But it was evident from his tone and his noncommittal shrug, that he was hiding something. He wasn’t good at hiding things, horrible with secrets.

Dick frowned, “Seriously?”

Wally settled down on the couch, head rested back against the sofa. He had a cleanly shaven face, looked generally more like himself - Aside from the hair. It was still long; nowhere near as long as Roy’s or even Dick’s, but Dick still found it strangely disconcerting. 

“Seriously what?” Wally asked, tilting his head slightly so he could meet Dick’s gaze. He looked disinterested, like the conversation was a complete waste of his time.

“You’re lying.” Dick challenged, “Why?”

“Take off the flat cap, Sherlock.” Wally scoffed, “I dated a ninja princess for six years, I learnt a thing or two.”

That could have been true, probably was, but Dick was still unsatisfied by it. He took a deep breath and decided it’d probably be best to not piss Wally off anymore than he already had, considering that the Cave was going to be an absolute nightmare for him. Dick didn’t want him to come angry.

“Do you still drink coffee?” Dick asked.

“I’ve been dying for one for the past six months.” Wally said, putting his head back again. “Johnny always said that adrenaline was nature’s caffeine, which is factually incorrect considering that caffeine _triggers_ adrenaline, but he was a tea guy, so he doesn’t get it.”

Johnny. Dick didn’t know any Johnnys. He knew a shit ton of Johns, but no Johnnys.

He poured a cup for Wally then one for himself. “Johnny?” He asked.

“Hm?” Wally took the cup from his hands.

“Who’s Johnny?”

“What are you talking about?” Wally laughed, tilting his head slightly. He took a sip of the coffee despite the fact that it was boiling hot. Didn’t even twitch. It was odd, sure, but after Jason’s dip in the pit, he’d taken to eating raw hamburger, so Dick just accepted it.

“You mentioned a Johnny.”

Wally paused, cup inches away from his face. There was a slight twinge of something on his face that Dick couldn’t identify. He decided it probably wasn’t good. But it passed, and Wally went back to drinking his coffee. He set it back on the coaster and asked, “You heard from Artemis?”

The question surprised Dick. An intentional conversation change, followed by the slightest widening of Wally’s eyes, before the bored expression returned. It was a challenge. Dick _assumed_ Wally was looking to see if he would just let it go, but Dick wasn’t sure what the response would be if he didn’t. He was tempted to test the waters.

But he didn’t.

“No, sorry.” Dick said. Then he offered, “She’ll probably be at the Cave?”

“Didn’t Kaldur blow that up?”

“It’s… complicated.”

Wally laughed, “The people of Happy Harbor must be pretty fucking stupid if they didn’t notice a mountain blowing to bits then reappearing months later.”

Dick didn’t answer.

Conner emerged, a box in his hand. He dropped it down on the glass table, disrupting the coffee cups. Every muscle in Dick’s body tightened, expecting the glass to shatter on impact. It was a seven hundred dollar coffee table, and Conner seemed dead-set on obliterating it. It had thin scratches on it from all the times that Conner had fixed appliances on it, and a scratch mark on the wooden frame from where Conner’s rescue dog had pawed at it.

God, it wasn’t even Dick’s furniture. Didn’t stop him from going full Alfred over it.

“Artemis nuked most of your stuff, but I saved some of it.” Conner said, watching Wally curiously.

Out of all of them, Conner was the only one installed with the ability to read even the slightly shift in expression or body language. Roy was apparently programmed with his head fully up his ass, and Dick was only human. Conner was seeing something they couldn’t, and Dick desperately wanted to know what it was.

Wally leant forward, gazing into the contents, “How long did it take her?”

“A week.”

“Aw, hot damn.” Wally grinned, “I was pretty sure she’d have burned it all same day.”

Dick cringed. Wally was completely unfazed by the fact that the love of his life destroyed everything they’d built together. He’d been almost certain of the fact that Artemis’s actions would have devastated Wally, but he seemed absolutely fine with it.

Wally pulled out his camera, a black Nikon D5 that he’d spent a small fortune on. “I should have been buried with this.” He mused, like it was funny.

“Well, I figured you’d want it back.” Conner said. Then added, “I had to skip the funeral to swipe it from your place.”

Wally snorted, “How’d that go down?”

“M’gann called me sociopath, but what else is new.”

“You talk about her like you were married for fifteen years, had two kids and then she fucked the pool boy.” He leant back and turned it on. It seemed to work to his satisfaction, because he took a picture of Conner’s reaction and admired the photograph on the small viewfinder. “You don’t _actually_ have kids, do you?”

“She’d have consumed them in utero.”

“ _Jesus._ ” Dick remarked, “Little much, don’t you think?”

Conner shrugged, as if to say ‘ _Maybe_ ’. But he didn’t actually verbalize it, instead settling on, “Roy has a kid.”

Wally’s eyes lit up in a way that Dick hadn’t seen in ages, “Really?”

Conner nodded.

“Why are we _here_ then? I wanna hold Roy’s kid.” Wally jumped up, bracing himself on the arm of the couch whilst he grabbed one of the crutches. It was amazing really, how capable he was. “Baby? Toddler?”

“Baby.” Dick said, “Four months.”

“She’s boring.” Conner added. Dick laughed.

“ _All_ babies are boring _,_ Conner.” Wally told him, “Who’s it with? Babs?”

“Why would it be with Babs?” Dick asked, accusatory.

Barbara was _Dick’s_ ex, his longest girlfriend aside from Zatanna, and while Roy and Barbara had tech in common, they weren’t friends. Dick was positive that Roy had only spoken to her a handful of times, and those were after she’d become the incredibly badass Oracle.

Wally blinked, surprised, like he said something he shouldn’t have had. The excitement had left his face, replaced with something closer to dread. Like he was expecting Dick to do something. Dick wasn’t sure what, but he didn’t like it.

“Roy’s had sex with everyone Dick, get over it.” Conner said, voice firm, “You’re just jealous ‘cause people actually like him _afterwards._ ”

Dick clenched his jaw. Conner was really good at stabbing the knife and twisting it, didn’t do it often, but always in retribution. He must have noticed something in Wally’s reaction. Dick made a mental note to ask what it was.

Not that Conner was going to _actually tell him,_ but it was worth a try.

Roy entered, covered in oil as he often was, oblivious to the tension in the room because he, as previously mentioned, had his head up his ass. He had a look of self-satisfaction on his face, “It’s ready.” He said it dramatically, like a scene out of a movie, then clapped his hands, applauding his own vast intellect.

Dick rolled his eyes.

“The joints?” Conner asked, vague as always.

“Springy and sexy.” Roy grinned.

“How? They weren't even moving earlier.”

“I have the touch.” He looped his arm around Wally’s shoulder, smearing his new, clean shirt in grease. “Ready for a trip down memory lane?”

Wally went rigid, eyes focusing on the floor, “Not really.” He admitted.

“Aw, come on.” Roy said, nudging him, “If you don’t go, how will you ever see Dick’s stupid creepy shrine?”

Dick scowled, “It’s a hologram. Not a shrine.”

“His costume’s like, right next to it. It’s a shrine.” Roy argued, “Or I guess it _was_ , ‘cause Bart has the ol’ suit, right?”

Dick wanted to punch him. And Conner. Just put them in the back of a van and drive them off the edge of a cliff like a Hanna Barbara villain. He’d have thought they were making things as painful as possible on purpose, if not for the fact that they both _always_ did this.

It felt like all the air was sucked out of the room. Dick shot Roy a look and Roy put his hands up, realizing his mistake. Conner didn’t react, watching Wally curiously, absentmindedly rubbing a particularly large scratch in the coffee table. Wally had this weird, fake smile plastered on his face, as if it was no issue at all, his eyes notably dead. It was like someone took a sharpie and drew a smily face on a corpse. Dick said this from experience; he must have seen countless Joker victims with the same expression.

Finally, Wally said, “Well, it’s not like _I_ want it.”

Dick frowned. He’d said the same thing to Bruce when he saw Jason running around in the costume. It was true, sure. Dick had moved on from being Robin, didn’t need the suit, but the suit was _his_ to give away, not Bruce’s.

Who had even given the suit to Bart? Dick couldn’t remember.

“So you’ll go?” Roy asked, “‘Cause I really don’t wanna do complex surgery on my couch.”

Wally looked at him, furrowing his brow. Dick wondered what he was thinking.

“Yeah… I guess.” Wally settled on, slightly hesitant.

“Smart choice.” Conner said, standing up, “Last time Roy did couch surgery, he did it whilst drinking diet coke from the can with a _straw_ and watching the game.”

“It was an _amazing_ game.” Roy argued, “And no one died, did they?”

Wally grimaced, “That doesn’t instill me with confidence.”

“We’ve done it before, don’t worry.” Roy assured him, “But if anything _does_ go wrong, we’ll be at a state of the art medical facility.”

“Roy.” Dick said, “Stop talking him out of it.”

Dick was aware of the fact that no one had ever asked Wally if this was what he wanted. They’d all assumed it probably was, considering how much running had meant to Wally; how much being Kid Flash did, even though he’d retired. But no one had actually _asked_. No one had said, ‘ _Hey Wally, do you want us to slice off the tip of your leg and do a dangerous procedure that none of us are actually trained for?_ ’

But he also didn’t want to be the one to.

“I’m _not_.” Roy argued, “I’m just being honest.” Then he shifted and Dick knew what he was going say next. “You’re… sure you want to do this, right Walls?”

Roy had never been a person of good moral standing. He’d always _tried_ to be, but rarely succeeded. He’d never hurt a kid, never leave a man behind. But it didn’t mean that if Slade Wilson offered him fifty grand to help kill a target, he wouldn’t agree to do it. And yet, there he was, being the only one to ask. That being said, Roy had always had some weird attachment to Wally. Whenever he was around him, he’d always make an active effort to be _better._

Dick tried to ignore the fact that it should have been _him_ to ask. He was the better person of the three. He was the empathetic one. But he just… He wanted everything to go back to normal.

Wally shrugged, “I’m not afraid of dying again. I’ve already died twice. What’s one more?”

Roy grinned, “Atta boy!”

* * *

The Zeta-tubes and AI system both recognized Wally’s ID. It announced ‘B03: Kid Flash’, the words echoing off the walls almost triumphantly. The sound of it sent chills down Wally’s spine, overwhelming his brain with memories. He felt fortunate that his time at a superhero had been full of good ones, some of the best days of his life. He leant against his crutches, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling of dread washing over him; knowing that in a few minutes, he’d be the center of everyone’s attention.

The cave looked almost exactly like it had, almost eerily so. The number designation was different; Wally was surprised his was even still in the system, but figured that no one had thought it right to wipe it from the system or, even worse, give it to someone else.

_But they gave your costume away, didn’t they?_

Wally ignored the voice in the back of his head. He was going to get his leg back, going to see Artemis, and everything was fine. He could go back to normal. Or… Whatever normal would be, considering he’d been gone for a handful of years. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to ask, but he’d deduced it had been around three or six years, considering the fact that little Dickie was now a full grown man, and Conner had renovated a house.

He imagined Artemis would probably get a kick out of being older _and_ taller. And stronger. Technically speaking, she’d been older before, her birthday was in September, but the point still stood.

He knew it’d be overwhelming to have a bunch of kids (most of whom, he didn’t know) gawk at him like he was a zoo animal, but the reality was way worse than his imagination. The moment he felt unfamiliar eyes on him, he started to feel dizzy. His pulse quickened, his knees - _knee_ went weak, and his tight grip on his crutches was the only thing keeping him upright. He knew a panic attack when he felt one, but didn’t plan for the frustration and embarrassment that came along with it. He was a _hero_ for fuck’s sake. He’d spent six months in a Pitch Black styled environment and spent most of it alone. But a room full of teenagers was enough to set off his fight or flight.

Then he saw M’gann.

She rushed towards him, first on foot, then in the air, wrapping her arms around his neck like one of those Folger ads. The ones where the older brother came home from the army and the family owned a Labrador. And it was a nice, for a minute. Then Wally’s brain told him that she was going to snap his neck if he didn’t move _right then_ and he jumped back, crashing ungracefully into Roy’s chest. Roy was a big guy, didn’t budge even slightly, didn’t try to touch him any more than he already was, either. M’gann looked like she’d been mortally wounded.

Wally wanted to apologize for overreacting, wanted to tell her he was fine, but all that came out was a shaky breath and a sharp, “ _Don’t touch me_.”

Behind him, Conner laughed. Not at him, but at M’gann, her misery, his enjoyment. Wally didn’t find it particularly charming, hadn’t even when the scars were still fresh between them. But he couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it.

Wally tried to center himself, focus on his surroundings. He was pressed up against Roy, against the fabric of his dark red henley, breathing in the scent of cedar, patchouli and cigarettes that lingered on him. Roy shifted, hands touching Wally’s arms. His touch wasn’t frightening. Wally wasn’t sure why, but it just wasn’t.

“Zoo’s closed, shitheads.” Roy said. When he moved his arms, the beaded bracelets he was wearing jangled together. Wally stifled a laugh. In the time he’d been gone, Roy had become Johnny Depp.

“Roy, come on.” Dick argued, “They’re just excited.”

“Why do I give a shit? Timmy’s the only one who knows him.”

Dick sighed, agitated, “Why don’t you guys run drills?” It got pushback, but Conner took a step forwards and the kids bailed.

Wally felt the anxiety leave his body. He took a deep breath, let it out, and decided he was going to be fine.

“You good, Wally?” Roy asked.

Wally nodded, throat dry.

With that assurance out of the way, they dragged him over to the Med Bay. Wally was stationed outside of it, so that Conner and Roy could get ready. He kind of got the impression that they didn’t want him to see the bone saws or the other heavy duty medical supplies, but Roy kept buzzing the saw and quoting Texas Chainsaw Massacre, so it didn’t _really_ work.

The only real perk was that Wally was completely alone, leant against the cold fake stone that had been created to replace the real stone of the cave. He could have sat down, but he felt as if he’d been stagnant for too long. If he thought about it, what he really wanted was to run. Run without fear, feeling the wind whip his face, his feet hitting the concrete. But he couldn’t, not yet, so standing was the next best thing.

“Hey, Wally.”

Wally opened his eyes to the sound of the voice. The boy was a little taller, his hair a little longer, but Wally recognized Tim when he saw him. Partially on account of his baby face. He was wearing a hoodie that Wally fondly recognized as one of his, part of the superhero collection that Wally had jokingly said he’d give Tim if he ever met his untimely death. He may have been kidding, but he was grateful that his fifty beloved hoodies hadn’t died with him.

“Hey.” Wally waived, then leant his head back and closed his eyes again, “I’m glad I’m still taller.”

“Barely.” Tim argued.

Dick was Wally’s best friend. So once Tim had lasted more than the few months his predecessor had, Dick had allowed Wally to get to know him. They got along pretty well. Tim’s head was more tech-savvy than scientific, but he understood way more about it that Dick did, and was hungry to learn. They were also both obsessed with heroes and their origin stories were similar; both risked everything to work alongside their idols. Wally liked him, liked him a lot. Liked him even more when he realized that Tim wasn’t going to stare at him like a freak.

“You still in love with Conner?” Wally asked, amused. Tim used to follow him around like a lost puppy.

“Shut up, he’s right there.” Tim hissed.

“He can’t hear shit. Roy’s a one man noise band.”

“Cass and I are - But uh- He’s still pretty cool.”

Wally laughed, “He is, isn’t he?”

A comfortable silence fell over them. Wally felt the wall shake slightly as Tim leant beside him. He opened his eyes and glanced down the quarter of an inch to see Tim staring at him.

“You can ask questions.” Wally told him. “Questions are fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” 

“See anything cool out there?”

Wally nodded, “The Speed Force doesn’t just trap speedsters, it takes things from different time periods that it deems useful. So there’s all sorts of things just strewn around. There was this altar - an Italian one - and they used it as this place to sacrifice animals to this goddess. There were carvings in the marble of her in battle and stuff, really detailed work. Johnny said it was like the Ara Pacis, whatever that means, said the Romans believed that if they sacrificed part of their livestock, she’d bless them to have this great harvest.”

“Johnny?”

Wally winced. He needed to forget about him, needed to move on. Whenever he said his name, he saw his face, saw the blood, heard the voice in the back of his head.

_It’s your fault, Wally. It's all your fault._

Tim must have noticed, because he said, “I’m just glad you weren’t alone, that’s all.”

Wally gave him a strained smile, “Thanks, kiddo.”

“Tim, don’t bother him.” Dick’s voice rang out, accompanied by the sound of a bone saw again.

“He’s not bothering me, Dick.” Wally said, patting Tim’s shoulder, “He’s distracting me from the mad men in the room behind me.”

Dick gave him a dubious look. But he didn’t argue, because his attention was taken by something else. By _someone_ else. Artemis. Artemis was walking towards them. Beautiful and elegant and - _She changed her hair_. It was shorter, down, parted on the left side, cascading down her right. She was in a white v-neck blouse, the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of black trousers, and the pointed toed black heels that Wally had said made her look like a total badass.

He didn’t think she’d come. He didn’t want her to see him like this. Not broken, missing pieces. He felt like a half made piece of furniture, a coffee table that only had three legs. Three legs would have been better than one. And the crutches, the goddamned crutches like he was one of the victims they’d pulled out of a wreckage.

At the same time, he wanted to pick her up and spin her and hold her, and tell her how much he loved her and give her the ring _. The ring_. He’d given it to Kaldur to keep it safe, and he hadn’t gotten it back yet. Granted, proposing to a woman he hadn’t seen in a handful of years (who _probably_ moved on) in the middle of the cave in front of Dick, Tim and everyone would have been an absolutely terrible idea. But she couldn’t have gotten mad at him for not going down on one knee, so it was tempting.

She stopped in the hallway, staring at him like she’d seen a ghost.

“I’m a zombie, not a ghost.” Wally corrected.

That seemed to be the magic key because she sprinted towards him. He expected a kiss, maybe for her to pick him up and spin him because he absolutely _loved_ that he was dating Wonder Woman’s human counterpart. But she slapped him instead. _Hard_. Hard enough that it rattled his teeth, and his vision blurred for just a second before he refocused.

_She didn’t look happy._

She looked miserable. Like someone had told her she had cancer, or something happened to Brucely. Not like she was seeing the love of her life. Wally waited for her to do something, _say something_ but she didn’t. She just kept staring at him with this sad, troubled expression. And he started to feel it too, started to feel like he should never have come back.

His leg - or rather, thigh - started hurting, a psychosomatic response he was sure of it. It was silly. Of course she wouldn’t want to see him. She probably had a boyfriend. It had been a long time. He’d have wanted her to move on. But it hurt. It hurt so bad that he wanted to scream. It was worse than all the bites, all the breaks, all the sprains, worse than the light leaving Johnny’s eyes and the blood, and the guilt. Worse than losing his leg. Worse than freezing in the snow.

And she wasn’t saying anything.

“I know I look a little worse for wear, but I’m back, huh?” He offered. He wanted to crack a joke, but he couldn’t think of one.

“You… are _._ ” She agreed, and the sound of her voice was so good.

He touched her arm and she pulled away. There was a tattoo on her forearm of a lightening bolt, and Wally knew right away it was for him. She knocked on the glass of the med bay. Roy looked up. Looked surprised, but tempered it quickly. He leant out of the door, snapping off rubber gloves covered in oil.

“You need somethin’ sis?” He asked.

Wally blinked. So the child had been with Cheshire, then. Made sense considering Roy compulsively made bad choices.

“Yeah.” She said, voice as hard as it been the day she’d joined the team, “Don’t kill him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for coming back, bearing with me, and for the kudos and comments! I really appreciate it despite my schedule being absolutely garbage! See you in the next update!


	5. Not The Doctor

_“Don’t kill him._ ”

She tried to keep her face flat, dead, but Roy had spent enough time with her to read between the lines. Her outfit had been carefully chosen, a far cry from her usual pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. The heels were the kind that Roy knew Wally liked, her hair was curled slightly, and when she made her request, she’d gripped Roy’s arm. She was happy to see him. Happy and sad, a bittersweet symphony.

Unfortunately, Roy _also_ knew her well enough to know she wasn’t going to stay. She wasn’t going to take Wally back, and she definitely wasn’t going to be nice about it. She was dating a guy, one of the Green Lanterns. _Kyle_. Nice guy. Not Wally, but a nice guy. She wasn’t going to dump him for Wally. She’d told Roy about the stories Jade had about the Pit whilst she was moving out of Roy’s place. Said that she wasn’t going to ‘stick around and watch him lose himself’. Roy thought she was overreacting. Told her that Wally would be fine, that he’d be himself again in no time. He’d said it partly because he believed it and partly because he’d lost _himself_ and to say that Wally couldn’t be the man he’d been before the death, before the accident, would be to say that Roy was the same broken junkie he’d been two years ago.

And Roy couldn’t believe that.

Behind him, he heard Conner buffing out an imperfection in the metal. Roy blinked, staring back down at Artemis. She was waiting for him to promise. Then she’d leave. She’d leave and never come back. Just like Jade had. He wasn’t even dating this one, and the thought of what Wally was going to go through was absolutely painful. He had half a mind to not answer. See how she felt then, unable to leave because of some weird code of honor that Law had instilled upon his girls.

_Roy had called them his girls once, too._

“Scouts honor.” Roy said. The words left a bad taste in his mouth.

She nodded stiffly, turning on her heels and walking out, stopping only to punch Dick in the face. She blamed him the most for all of it. Dick had been her friend long before anyone else; the most accepting, the most familiar with a parent’s expectations of greatness. And Dick had been the one to find him in the snow. So it all fell on him. It wasn’t fair. But that’s how it was.

“I’ll never forgive you.” He heard her say. He found it pretty funny coming from someone leaving a man who lived and breathed her.

Roy glanced at Wally. Wally knew it too; it was written all over his face. Of course, Artemis hadn’t explicitly said it because Crocks _never fucking said it_ , but she’d not have left otherwise. Roy knew he’d bought her a ring, knew he wanted to propose, knew he wanted to have kids with her and buy a house with a white picket fence and go to PTA meetings and on family vacations and send shitty, cheesy Christmas cards to everyone he knew. And none of that was going to happen, because Artemis was too chickenshit to risk getting hurt.

Roy wanted to throttle her.

He plastered a smile on his face instead. “You ready to go Walls? ‘Cause I gave her scouts honor but Conner didn’t and he’s back there chugging horse tranqs, so we got fifteen minutes before he’s Joan Rivers.”

“ _I am not!_ ” Conner barked.

“He totally is.” Roy mouthed, winking.

It brought at smile on Wally’s otherwise depressed face. Being there for Wally had been one of the few things Roy hadn’t fucked up. No matter what drunken, drugged out state he’d been in, he had always been able to make Wally smile. He was proud of that.

He gave the bone saw one more experimental buzz, and Conner took it off of him. Roy glared. Conner drew the blinds, turned on all the medical monitors and then said, in his usual dry voice, “Drop your pants.”

Wally froze.

Roy laughed, “This is why you don’t get many overnights, Con.”

“I get plenty of overnights.” Conner scoffed. “Drop ‘em.”

Wally did. He dropped his pants on the floor and hopped up on the cot without another argument.

The Lazarus Pit had completely healed his leg; it looked like it was three years old, rather than an intreated injury that had frozen over in the snow. Roy had noticed when he originally saw it, that the cuts were jagged and the bone was crushed and broken rather than sawed through. He’d seen it before, during his brief time as _Arsenal - Hero of the Free World_ , before he devolved into _Arsenal - Kills People When He Needs Diaper Money_. Medics in active war zones amputating limbs with less than ideal supplies. But he wasn’t going to ask.

Being nosy was Dick’s thing.

“We’re gonna put you under.” Roy said, snapping on another pair of powder blue gloves.

“I’m good.” Wally said.

“You sure? We could do a local, but it’ll still hurt like sin.”

“He’s good.” Conner said.

Conner was a human mood ring. Roy liked that about him, except when it was directed towards him. And ever since they’d started hanging out, it seldom wasn’t. Roy had always prided himself on inheriting Oliver’s ability to lie, but Conner seemed to have made it his mission to read him like a book, pointing out everything he tried to hide.

In this case, Conner’s certainty was what made Roy agree.

A few minutes later, when Wally was screaming, Roy started to regret it. It was loud, loud enough that there was banging on the door and M’gann askingif everything was okay. And Conner answered that door, absolutely covered in blood, with Wally screaming and crying and whimpering like an injured deer, and told her it was all under control. Technically, it _was_. Wally’s heart rate was _high_ but not high enough to risk a heart attack or something crazy like that. But it sounded awful, like they were torturing him. And M’gann threatened to call S.T.A.R. Labs to finish the job if they couldn’t stop the pain.

Roy had about fifty different ways to stop the pain, and knew around fifteen different veins he could use for a quick release. He also knew Wally wouldn’t go for any of it. He’d always been a determined shit.

Fifteen minutes later, and Wally went silent. It was so sudden that Roy checked to make sure that Wally hadn’t just died on them. The machines said he was still kicking, even that his heart rate was slowing down, but it wasn’t until Roy actually felt his pulse that he calmed down.

“Wally? We lose ya?” Roy asked, waving a hand in front of Wally’s unblinking eyes. He was conscious enough that tears were free flowing from his eyes, but other than that, he was unresponsive.

It made things easier considering the circumstances but it creeped Roy out something shocking. Like working on a wax figure or something. But Conner didn’t even seem fazed, sawing through the rest of the bone in a matter of seconds. He took off his gloves, pitching them into a nearby waste bin and produced his glasses; frameless rectangular things that he only used when working on something he deemed ‘important’. He rested them on the end of his nose, connecting the nerves to a metal cap that would serve as the ‘bluetooth’ that would send signals to the actual leg. This would ensure that if something was wrong with the leg, they wouldn’t have to reverse the surgery, just unscrew the leg and repair it then and there. Or replace it, depending on the damage.

“Control to Major Wally.” Roy tried again. He wondered if Wally was still thinking, or if he was gone, in some weird catatonic state. He was weirdly jealous; he used to spend thousands for the same taste of oblivion.

“I don’t know why you care.” Conner muttered, focused on what he was doing, “He’s quiet right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Roy glanced towards the unused EEG machine that Dick had requested at some point when he had delusions of grandeur. “You good down there?”

“Always am.” 

Roy nodded. He grabbed the EEG machine from the corner, dusted it off, and plugged it into the wall, waiting the five annoying minutes before it fully turned on before pressing the small metal disks onto Wally’s head. He glanced at the screen for a few seconds before seeing the answer - Wally was hallucinating. Judging by how gone he was, he was probably somewhere else entirely. Roy wasn’t sure if it was a random attack brought on by the effects of the Pit or his brain shutting down from the pain, but he wished there was a way to find out.

The few times Roy had had a full hallucination, he’d been in the park with his father and brother, his brain making up what he’d think they’d look like ten years later. It had been nice, a far cry from whatever horrific situation his brain was trying to escape.

He wondered if Wally was so lucky.

“Done playing brain doctor?” Conner asked, looking up at him through the lenses of his perched glasses.

“Yeah.” Roy nodded, disconnecting Wally from the machine and shoving it out of the way.

“Good, ‘cause it’s your turn.” Conner said, standing up from the stool and stretching, back popping slightly.

Roy nodded again, settling down into the seat. Conner had connected the nerves, so Roy’s job was making sure the sensor adhered to the bone, healed and Wally didn’t die of sepsis or something. Because that’d just be embarrassing. It wouldn’t necessarily be _removable_ but it would get Wally up and running again, so he figured Wally wouldn’t mind.

Conner was cleaning up. Roy half-thought he’d be at Wally’s bedside like the doting boyfriend he’d always wanted to be. Roy was aware that there’d been something between the two of them years ago. He’d listened to Wally sob into his Flash-themed comforter because Conner had ‘picked M’gann over him’. Roy didn’t ask for details, just listened, but he’d never forgotten about it. In the short time he was on the team, and the time after, he’d watched the interactions between the two of them. Noticed that when Conner and M’gann had broken up for the first time, Conner was always free when Wally needed help with something, always wanted to partner up with him on missions. Of course, Wally had started dating Artemis around the end of the first year, and they hadn’t broken up so Conner had never been able to _officially_ make a move. But now that Artemis was gone, it was open season.

 _Open season._ Roy pondered that point whilst he finished up. He grabbed the limb, taking a minute to admire their handiwork: Sleek silver metal with patches of red, hardware thin enough that they were able to model it to resemble an actual leg, just one made of metal. Roy could hardly believe they were able to pull it off; a few hours prior and it wasn’t even working. But there it was. A mechanical marvel.

He screwed it on. It looked authentic, they’d gotten the scale right, and it was pretty damn sexy. He experimentally bent it. Seemed to work. Of course, it all depended on if Wally could make it work, which was a whole other thing. In the back of his mind, he had the vague recollection of his other self trying to make _his_ arm work for him and the six months it took before he could finally get it to ball a fist.

But that had been Roy’s first attempt and he hadn’t even _made_ the arm, so he hoped a few years of experience would make the difference.

“I’m done.” Roy said, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips.

“Cool.” Conner said, nonchalantly pimp slapping Wally across the face. It was a loud sound that echoed off the walls, and seemed to get Wally out of his daze. He jolted, making a jump for the floor. Both legs moved, pulling in. Roy grabbed his ankle before he actually landed on the dirty floor, and heaved him back onto the cot.

“Looks like it works, Kent.” Roy said, clapping his hands together in excitement.

“Fuck yeah it does.” Conner smirked.

“ _You hit me_.” Wally said, voice unusually high. His hand cradled his cheek, eyes wide, pupils thin, and a pissed off look on his face. Better than nothing.

“You spaced out and Con got excited.” Roy said, “Think you can bend your leg again?”

“ _He hit me._ ” Wally reiterated, but he did as he was told. It worked fine.

“Sorry?” Conner offered. He didn’t look or sound it.

Roy put his hand on Wally’s shoulder, “Are you in pain Walls?”

“ _Don’t fucking hit me_.”

Roy sighed, running a hand through his hair, destroying his already messy ponytail, “Why'd you hit him, Conner?”

“Physical stimulation works in moments of disassociation.” Conner informed.

“I don’t think that’s right, man. Fuck- _Does it matter?_ Just apologize.”

“I did.”

Roy rolled his eyes. He gingerly stepped past them, up to the cabinet that held the pain meds. He knew exactly where they were and what was in them, considering he’d stolen enough of them. But when he tugged on the handle, it didn’t open. “Who has the key, Conner?”

“M’gann probably.” Conner shrugged, “She seemed to think someone was stealing them.”

Roy snorted, “Me. _Obviously._ ”

“I told her she was paranoid.”

“Of course you did. Look. I’m gonna go get the key, ‘cause if you do it, you’ll argue with her for forty minutes and forget what I even asked for. So just… Apologize. Give him a massage. I don’t know.” He threw his hands up, and left.

He was only halfway out the door before he remembered Dick was pacing outside, rubbing his hands together anxiously. When Dick saw him, he got this hopeful look on his face, which was immediately replaced with a look parents got when they found out their children died.

“Is he… Okay?” Dick asked.

“Conner slapped him, but yeah. You know where M’gann is? I need the key for the drug cabinet.”

“Upstairs. She was convinced someone was stealing it, and locked it up, but we’re pretty sure she was just paranoid.”

Roy stared at him incredulously, “ _I_ took the drugs. I’d just flick the lid off whatever looked fun and pass out in there. I did it _constantly,_ how did you morons not figure that out?”

Dick made a face, “Maybe we wanted to think the best of you?"

Roy scoffed, pushing past him. He distinctly remembered Dick being the first one to blow him off when he was falling to pieces. Everyone did. Everyone but Wally. "Yeah, sure."

"Come on, you know what I meant." Dick argued. 

Roy ignored him. He had somewhere more important to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update schedule? I don't know her. But I do know these boys have some serious issues they need to work out.
> 
> See you in the next update!

**Author's Note:**

> Just so everyone knows, in this version of events Conner doesn't forgive M'gann for messing with his head and found the whole 'Conner Manley' thing extremely creepy. Not to say that he doesn't love her, but yeah. It's disturbing and I wish the creators hadn't just made him go "Oh no, I'm totally cool with you making me a dupe of your tv obsession here's an engagement ring."
> 
> At any rate, thank you so much for reading this story, I'm very passionate about it, and I'm grateful to everyone who takes the time to read it. I'll see you in the next update.


End file.
